


against all odds

by killerqueenwrites



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Tony's trying his best, Whump, and Not Kidnappings, but sometimes he needs help as well, different first meeting, peter can handle his own shit, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28228956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerqueenwrites/pseuds/killerqueenwrites
Summary: Tony Stark doesn’t usually find himself in Hell’s Kitchen, as a general rule. He’s a Manhattan kind of guy, but today has seen him in Queens, and now here, crossing over West Side Highway and heading down towards the docks.Tony didn’t track down Spider-Man to take him to Germany. Instead, he finds him in a seedy corner of Hell’s Kitchen, fighting – and winning – a cage match. But, as there usually is, there's more to this than it seems.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 26
Kudos: 210
Collections: Irondad Fic Exchange 2020





	against all odds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethy_277](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethy_277/gifts).



> for bethy_277. your prompts of 'whump', 'badass peter' and 'soft tony' gave me a lot of free rein, so i hope you enjoy this!
> 
> warning for a tiny discussion/threat of a character being sold

Tony Stark doesn’t usually find himself in Hell’s Kitchen, as a general rule. He’s a Manhattan kind of guy, but today has seen him in Queens, and now here, crossing over West Side Highway and heading down towards the docks. He pulls his hat a little further down his face, falls in with the crowd traipsing to the warehouse that’s silhouetted against the darkening sky.

Once inside, it’s easy to keep himself hidden; the lights are low, and no one is looking anywhere else but the cage in the centre of the room. They’re cheering, clapping, stamping their feet.

They’re all here for the same thing. Tony knows; it’s why he’s here, too. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” A well-muscled man walks into the cage. “Thank you for coming out here tonight!”

More cheers. Eager for violence. Tony’s lip curls.

“And we have quite the show for you! Place your bets now, folks.On the ticket today, we have...the Wolf-Man! He’s up against our champion, the Monkey Boy!”

Tony leans forward, narrows his eyes.

“The kid may look small,” the announcer continues, “but don’t let that fool you. And as for the Wolf-Man, he’s more bite than bark. Please welcome _your fighters_!”

The cheers rise to a rumbling roar as the lights dim even further, while spotlights fall on the cage, lighting it up as the announcer steps out and two more figures file in. One is huge, wrapped in solid muscle, while the other – is a kid.

Just looking at him, Tony would say he was no older than sixteen and had no business being in a place like this. But knowing what he does – Peter Parker, aged fifteen, resident of Queens, _Spider-Man_ – he has absolutely no business being the reigning champion of an illegal mutant fighting ring run by a renowned businessman.

“In three!” someone calls, and the rest of the crowd follows with, “Two! One! _Fight_!”

Tony settles in for what he’s sure is about to be the worst twenty minutes of his life.

* * *

The kid wins.

Not with brute strength or violence, but by climbing up the cage, waiting out of reach, using surprise, speed, agility,

By the end, Tony’s bitten his nails almost to the quick. His left hand is quivering in his hoodie pocket. He’s a nervous wreck. But the kid wins.

The kid is smirking as he collects his money and waves to the crowd, but it’s just a front, an act. It’s the smirk Tony himself wears when he’s shitting bricks but winging his way through. Underneath, Peter Parker is scared.

* * *

The crowd disperses and Tony follows, always keeping his head down, moving at the same pace as everyone else. They spill out onto the docks, start walking down the street, cross back over into Hell’s Kitchen and disappear into the city.

“Where am I looking, Fri?” Tony murmurs.

She doesn’t reply, still in quiet mode, but highlights a route in his sunglasses. Tony follows, weaving down the sidewalk, until he spots the kid on a street corner, rummaging through his backpack.

"Hey kid,” he says easily, stopping a few feet away. “Good fight.”

Parker huffs in amusement. “What’s the first rule of Fight Club?” He looks up and his jaw goes slack. “Uh…Mr Stark?

“Stay casual. We don’t know who’s watching.”

Parker swallows but pulls his face back to a neutral expression. “So, you saw the fight? I didn’t think this would be your kind of scene, Mr Stark.”

“Well, me neither. What’s a kid like you doing in a place like this?”

“Helping with the rent.”

“It pays well, huh?”

Parker sets his shoulders, lifts his chin, defiant, defensive. “Absolutely.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Tony pushes.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Right. Because he’s also a child vigilante on his days off. “You say that, but you got me worried, kid. I have a proposal for you, if you want to hear it.”

A blink. “I – I’m good.”

“What do you – what do you mean, you’re good?”

“Seriously, Mr Stark, I’m fine, I got this,” the kid says, fucking blasé, and Tony’s on his last nerve now.

“All right, Spider-Man,” he hisses. Parker’s head whips around, eyes wide and alarmed, finally displaying a sensible reaction to something. “Yeah, that’s right. I know. And if I know, what makes you think they don’t? Do you have _any_ idea the kind of danger you’re putting yourself in? For what, money?”

“I can handle myself. I know what I’m doing.”

Of course he does. This is fucking deliberate, isn’t it? It wasn’t an accident he ended up here, of all places, Spider-Man in the realm of Hell’s Kitchen’s crime lord.

“I’m not saying you don’t.” Tony pulls of his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. “I – okay, this is going terribly. I want to _help_ you, kid. You’ve been doing good on your own, okay? You have. But you’re in pyjamas when you’re out Spidering and now you’re willingly getting the shit kicked out of you–“

“Most times I win.”

_Inner peace,_ Tony begs. “You’re getting beat to hell and putting yourself in the lion’s den, and your aunt’s back in Queens without a damn clue – and I know she doesn’t know, because when I stopped by she told me you were bussing tables–“

“You went to my _apartment_?” Parker hisses, angry for the first time. 

“Forgive me for assuming I had any chance of finding you there.”

“You know who I am?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Tony says quickly, “but I really want you to think about this, kid.”

“Cause you want to recruit me. For my powers. You want Spider-Man.”

“Kinda,” Tony says. “I also want to meet whoever manufactured his webs. Tensile strength? Off the charts. Who’s your guy?”

He knows he’s said the right thing when Parker blushes, ducks his head to hide his smile. “I am. I – I mean, I made them.”

“Then you’re one smart cookie.” Tony waits. “I’m serious about this kid, I am. I want to help you. Will you let me?”

There’s a flicker of desperate hope in Parker’s eyes now, and Tony thinks he’s done it, but then the kid turns away. “Thanks, Mr Stark, but I’m good by myself. I nearly got enough to take down Fisk’s whole operation.”

_Don’t push him_ , a voice in Tony’s head gently warns him. Jarvis, maybe. _Wait until he’s ready._

How can he wait when the kid’s in immediate fucking danger? 

“Okay,” Tony says finally. “Don’t look so surprised, this wasn’t a kidnapping. I’m not joking about the onesie, though. You need a systematic upgrade. Top to bottom.”

“‘S’not a onesie,” the kid mutters, with a little more of that charming teenage attitude.

Tony chooses to ignore that. “If you ever need anything – anytime at all, I don’t care when, or for what – come to the Tower and ask my AI for me. She’ll let you in, either as Spider-Man or yourself. Even if it’s just you needing to mix up your webs somewhere that isn’t Chemistry class.”

He’s not going to push, in case the kid runs away. No, he’s just going to gently dangle the promise of his R&D playground in front of him and hope he caves sooner rather than later. 

“Thanks, Mr Stark.” Not an outright dismissal, at least.

“Any time, Webs, I mean it.” Tony slides on his glasses and, despite every instinct screaming not to, walks away.

* * *

He should have pushed. He should have dragged the kid back to the Tower, kicking and screaming.

Because Spider-Man hasn’t been seen for nearly two days, and Tony’s getting jumpy now, constantly-checking-the-news jumpy, on-the-verge-of-hopping-in-his-suit jumpy.

“Tones?”

“Hm?”

“I’m not even gonna ask if you were listening,” Rhodey sighs.

“Nothing was being said.”

Sam leans back in his chair. “We’d appreciate it if you paid attention for once in your life.”

Sure, the team might have survived the rather large falling-out they’d had about a year ago, but that doesn’t mean they’re all good. Not yet. And it certainly hasn’t stopped Tony’s favourite Secretary of State sticking his nose in where it’s neither wanted nor needed, repeatedly.

“I was paying attention. Ross is being an asshole about the new amendments. I will deal with him.” He pauses. “Have I ever _not_ dealt with him?”

“No,” Natasha says, “but you’re very distracted lately. You okay?”

“Good. Super. Thinking about dinner, actually. Curry sound good?” Tony climbs to his feet and raps the table. “Meeting adjourned. Good stuff.”

He leaves, feeling their stares searing into his back, but doesn’t stop until he’s in his lab. Privacy, at last. “Fri, just run a check again. Any accessible cameras. Make sure the Spider-kid isn’t out and about on the sly.”

_“Still nothing, Boss. No facial recognition, either.”_

Which means the kid is MIA, both as Spider-Man and Peter Parker. “Shit.” Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shit, okay. How much evidence do we have on Fisk? Is there enough to justify the team responding?”

_“Nowhere near, and even if there was, he’s not exactly an existential threat.”_

“Dammit.”

“Fisk?” Rhodey’s voice says, and Tony jumps, whirls around.

“We used to do this wonderful thing in college called _knocking_.”

“No sock on the door,” Rhodey retorts. “Why are you trying to authorise an Avengers strike on Wilson Fisk?”

“Well – I–“ Tony clears his throat. “He’s not exactly squeaky clean, honeybear.”

“Probably not, but that’s for the Feds to sort out. Not us. Why are you involved in this?”

“It’s the Spiderling, Rhodey.”

“Are you still saying words?” Rhodey moves closer. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Spider-boy! Crime-fighting Spider.”

“Pepper’s gonna replace all your coffee with decaf again.”

“The Queens Spider-Man. Red and blue leotard. Gymnastics. Webs.”

“Heard of him.”

“Fisk is running an illegal mutant fighting ring. I was looking for Spider-kid, and tracked him down to there.”

Rhodey, in fairness, processes a large amount of new and shocking information in a single blink. “Okay, was he kidnapped? Threatened?”

“He wanted to help out at home,” Tony says miserably. “I approached him, after his fight – I wanted to help him – but he turned me down. I think – I think he was there on purpose, trying to take down the fighting ring. And now he’s nowhere to be found, and what if I blew his cover? God, Rhodey, he’s fifteen–“

“He’s what? Fifteen? And you didn’t drag him straight outta there? What the hell?”

“He said he could handle it.”

“Remind me when fifteen-year-olds became known for their good judgement calls.” Rhodey covers his mouth with one hand, fingers splayed. “Fuck, Tony.”

“Oh, God,” Tony says, panic jumping in his chest. He’s jittery, shaky. He had a chance to really help this kid, one chance, and he screwed it up. Completely. Utterly. He left him in the lion’s den. “Rhodey–“

“Where’s this warehouse?”

“Huh? Um, the Hudson docks. Just across from Forty-Ninth.”

“Suit up. Let’s go.”

Tony blinks. “Yeah. Uh–“

“And breathe.”

“Yep.”

* * *

“You sure that’s it?”

“Yep.” Tony clenches his left hand, trying to slow his breathing.

“Okay,” Rhodey says calmly. “Send in a drone to scope the place out first.”

“We don’t have time–“

“We don’t even know the kid’s in there, Tony.”

That stops him short. “Shit.”

“And we’re not exactly stealthy, you know?”

“Yeah. Okay. Fri, deploy the drone for me, girl.”

_“You got it.”_

The recon drone detaches from his suit, rising higher until it finds a vent shaft and disappears into it. In the same second, FRIDAY starts playing the feed in his HUD.

“All right,” Tony murmurs, “Rhodey, you got eyes?”

“Uh-huh.”

“This should take us out into the main room – yeah. This is where they have the fights…”

Tony trails off when the drone rounds a support pillar and the cage comes into view, because there’s a figure inside, hanging from their arms, head limp against their chest. 

_“Facial recognition confirmed,”_ FRIDAY says, almost reluctant. _“Peter Parker.”_

“Get closer.” Thank God Rhodey’s talking, because Tony doesn’t think he’d be able to. “Stay out of sight.”

There’s movement in the corner of the room. The drone darts back behind the pillar.

“And how’s our guest today?”

“Fisk?” Rhodey says under his breath. Tony nods a confirmation.

“Not looking too good, is he?”

Tony moves his hand and the drone hovers forward, hanging in the shadows but still close enough to get a better view. He almost wishes he hadn’t.

Parker is strung up from his wrists by chains secured to the top of the cage, his feet barely brushing the ground, dressed in his hoodie-onesie-suit but maskless. As he raises his head, Tony catches sight of the bruises, the busted lip, the dried blood in his hair.

“Again?” the kid says, trying to be defiant but clearly in pain. And scared. God, he’s _fifteen_. “Really? What do you want, man?”

Tony’s met Wilson Fisk a couple of times and always found him physically imposing, but not someone to be intimidated by; anyone who needs to get their way through bullying isn’t much of anything, he’d decided. Of course, that was before he knew Fisk was the head of pretty much all the organised crime in the city. Now, as he looms over the kid, flanked by two equally huge bodyguards, Tony’s frightened of him for the first time.

“You know,” Fisk says, “I’ve had to cancel all the fights scheduled here. I’ve had to notify all my contacts that Queens’ little insect was onto me.” He takes another step forward, fisting his hand cruelly in Parker’s hair despite his whimper of pain. “That’s costing me credibility. More importantly, it’s costing me _money_. So the only question you should have is how you’re going to make it up to me.”

He drops Parker’s head, lets it hang again, starts circling the kid like a shark. 

“I could send your face to someone who’d have your ID in seconds. That’d be popular, wouldn’t it? The identity of Spider-Man.”

Parker lets out a muffled sound of protest.

“I could make you fight here. Every night. No cut of the winnings. Don’t look so offended, it’s just business. Or…I think you’ll be worth the most on the black market. People have seen you fight, and owning Spider-Man – imagine the prestige.”

Tony engages his faceplate. “We’re going in.”

“Tony–“

“We’re going in _now_.”

FRIDAY takes control of the drone again, letting off shots at the two guards as Tony fires his repulsors and blasts through the warehouse wall. Fisk has already started running, the drone in hot pursuit, and Tony drops the remaining guard in a second. Rhodey’s right behind him, quickly searching them and producing a key of the same metal as the cuffs around the kid’s wrists.

“Vibranium?” He holds it up to the light for a second before unlocking the cuffs. “Where’d they get this?”

“Black market, probably,” Tony says, and catches the kid when he slumps, unable to hold his own weight. “Whoa, steady. You with us?”

“Misser S’ark…?” is all the kid manages before he passes out.

“Okay.” Tony can breathe a little easier all of a sudden. “Can I carry him, FRIDAY?”

_“I detect no major injuries. However, Fisk has destroyed the reconnaissance drone.”_

“He what?”

_“He punched it. Repeatedly.”_

“I’ll eat the loss, all things considered,” Tony says, and gathers Peter Parker close to his chest before he takes off. 

* * *

Tony watches the kid sleep. He’d got off lightly by everyone’s reckoning, if three cracked ribs, a fractured cheekbone and a sea of cuts and bruising is _lightly_. Well, compared to what it could have been, it probably is.

And once they got fluids in him, once his body started to absorb the nutrients, his healing had kicked in and cleared most of the injuries up overnight.

Peter Parker is a marvel, but more than that, he’s a kid who shouldn’t have been on his own for so long. So Tony stays, not wanting him to be alone when he wakes up, and stands up when Parker starts to stir. 

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty – hey, whoa–!”

The kid jackknifes out of bed, tearing himself free of all the wires and leaping up to the ceiling. Where he stays. On the ceiling.

“Whatthehell?” he gasps. “Ohmygod, wherethehellamI–?”

“Kid, easy,” Tony says. “You’re safe.”

Parker seems to see him for the first time. He relaxes a little, but doesn’t move. “Oh, man. I thought they’d sold me to a mad scientist or something.”

“Don’t you remember my daring rescue?” Tony says. “I sacrificed a drone for you.”

“You did? Oh, man, I am _so_ sorry–“

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.”

Tony takes a step back, giving him some more space. “So it wasn’t the suit, huh?”

“Huh? Oh, no. No, I’m definitely – mutated.”

“Enhanced.”

“If that’s the politically correct term, then yeah, Mr Stark. Very much enhanced.”

“How‘re you feeling?”

The kid shrugs. Tony wonders how all the blood isn’t rushing to his head. “Beaten up and embarrassed. You were right – they knew exactly who I was. I thought I was being so smart, and–”

“You _are_ smart,” Tony says. “You synthesised a whole new non-corrosive, incredibly strong, self-dissolving compound. You developed a storage and deployment method for it. Although, if you don’t let a nurse put your IV back in, you’ll be feeling a lot less clever.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Parker drops, flipping midair, and almost sticks the landing until he staggers and has to catch himself on the edge of the bed. “Uh…”

“Yep, back in bed,” Tony says, but still doesn’t move forward until the kid’s settled, at which point he holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you properly.”  
  


“Um. Peter. Peter Parker. You knew that. Sorry.” He reaches out and shakes Tony’s hand.

“Tony.”

“Thanks for saving me, Mr Stark. If anything happened to me, my aunt–” Peter’s eyes fly wide. “May! Ohmygod, she’sgoingtokillme!”

“I’ve dealt with that.”

Peter winces. “What did you tell her?”

“So many lies. It was disgusting. Luckily, I’d already laid the groundwork for some of them when I stopped by your place in Queens.” With a sigh, Tony sits back down in one of the chairs by the bed. “The September Foundation. Did she mention that?”

“Um...haven’t really...seen her since then. She works a lot of shifts, and between school and my _job_ – oh.” The kid visibly deflates. “I don’t have a job anymore.”

“Stay with me,” Tony says. “As far as she’s aware, this only happened late last night. You were on your way home when you got mugged, and dragged yourself back to the Tower – which you had just left, by the way – to ask for help. I set you up in the medical wing. Here you are now.”

“I’m in Stark Tower?” Peter squeaks. “Wait – why did I leave? What was I doing there? Here?”

“Finalising your internship, obviously. As I mentioned to your lovely aunt the other day, you applied for a grant with the September Foundation, and I was so impressed, I wanted to take you further. Of course, I also told her not to worry, most kids know it’s incredibly competitive and so they don’t tell anyone until they’re certain it’s approved. Congratulations, Mr Parker.”

Peter blinks once, then again, holding Tony’s gaze despite the confusion written all over his face. “What...did I do…?”

“Synthesised a whole new non-corrosive, incredibly strong, self-dissolving compound and developed a storage and deployment method for it, of course. The internship is fully paid, so no more bussing tables for you, Web-doodle.”

“Wow.”

A nurse bustles in, breaking their focus. “Lost your IV, Mr Parker?”

“Yeah, sorry, I…” Peter turns away as she carefully inserts the needle again. “Thanks.”

“The doctor will be right back in. Should I tell your aunt you’re awake?”

“Give me five minutes, please.”

“Of course.” She leaves.

“Wow,” Peter says again. “Mr Stark, I – wow.”

“I do feel the need to reiterate that this is not a kidnapping.”

“I think it’s the opposite of a kidnapping.”

Tony grins. “Oh, and one last thing: internship hours can be completed remotely. On the web, as it were.”

“Oh! You mean…” Peter does something with his hand, a weird upside-down gesture, before leaning forward and whispering, “ _Spider-Man?_ ”

“That’s the one, kid.”

“And you’re doing all this – for me?”

“Of course.”

“...why?”

“Why?” Tony flounders for a minute. He’s never considered it, really; the moment he’d seen the kid on the internet, finding him and helping him hadn’t even been a question. “I mean, why not? You – you’re out there in a sweatsuit, helping people, just ‘cause you can. And, you know, you’re looking out for the little guy – maybe you need someone looking out for you.”

“Oh.” There’s a small smile tugging at the corner of Peter’s lips “So, not for, like, the Accords or something?”

“No!” Tony says vehemently. No wonder Peter had been so wary; he must have thought he was about to be forcibly recruited or, worse, carted off to the Raft. “God, no. If we’re not getting near those until Ross stops dicking around and passes the amendments we want, then you sure as hell aren’t.” He pauses. “You know, I nearly got you involved in that whole mess. Really glad I didn’t now.”

“Would’ve liked the vacation,” Peter says, and is he smirking? “And you found me eventually, so. All good.”

“Sure did, squirt.” Tony hesitates for a second before he reaches out and gently ruffles the kid’s hair. “Now, I feel bad about not telling your aunt you’re awake. What’s our story?”

“Uhh, I was here – because internship reasons – and I got mugged – not here. Something September.”

“You know what? Close enough.”

Peter Parker laughs, and Tony decides, right there and then, that it’s his new favourite sound in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr at [akillerqueenwrites](https://akillerqueenwrites.tumblr.com), or my main blog [akillerqueenyouare](https://akillerqueenyouare.tumblr.com). come say hi, ask questions, leave prompts or just yell at me. i've also made a twitter, [@killerqueenao3](https://twitter.com/killerqueenao3) , if any of you want to talk to me there (it's mostly pictures of my dog). thank you for reading!


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